


would be a spider

by artsyspikedhair



Series: Traumatized Ron/Abusive Weasley fics [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Boggarts, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Child Neglect, Dysfunctional Family, Hogwarts Chamber of Secrets, Legilimency, Other, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2020-03-09 08:54:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18913669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artsyspikedhair/pseuds/artsyspikedhair
Summary: Ron thought it would be a spider.He really did - he had reoccurring nightmares about his teddy bear with too many eyes and legs and not soft anymore. He shrieked when he saw one in his dorm, or room, or anywhere, screaming like a little girl. But when Parvati stepped aside, her jack-in-the-box disappearing, no extra legs grew. No hairy tarantula appeared to haunt Ron’s dreams.





	1. Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron thought it would be a spider.
> 
> He really did - he had reoccurring nightmares about his teddy bear with too many eyes and legs and not soft anymore. He shrieked when he saw one in his dorm, or room, or anywhere, screaming like a little girl. But when Parvati stepped aside, her jack-in-the-box disappearing, no extra legs grew. No hairy tarantula appeared to haunt Ron’s dreams.

 Ron thought it would be a spider.

He really did - he had reoccurring nightmares about his teddy bear with too many eyes and legs and not soft anymore. He shrieked when he saw one in his dorm, or room, or anywhere, screaming like a little girl. But when Parvati stepped aside, her jack-in-the-box disappearing, no extra legs grew. No hairy tarantula appeared to haunt Ron’s dreams.

Twin pairs of blue eyes stared down at him. “Hello, Ronniekins!” One of them shouted, and the other twin’s face morphed into a sinister laugh. 

This was his worst fear? The twins? Ron’s chest filled with self-loathing as he pointed his wand. “Riddikulous!”

”Petrificus totalus!” George, it was George who cast the spell, and could boggarts even cast spells? Ron didn’t know, didn’t know if it worked, didn’t think he could breathe even if he wasn’t magically bound from moving, and Fred took his robe off, had him in a headlock - can’t breathe can’t breathe can’t - “Fred, you really think he could do it?”

”We don’t have enough money to hire someone, and it’s not like he’ll be missed if we accidentally kill him anyway -“

Ron’s clothes were being taken off. Why? Why wasn’t anyone helping? “Poor wee little Ronniekins, crying for mommy!”

Someone - was it Fred? Fred had always been the more violent of the two - pushed Ron to the floor, away from the twins, who were changing shape and size and how had Hermione gotten here? Wasn’t he at the Burrow?

McGonagall’s form replaced the twins, holding up a failed test. Hermione - boggarts, Defense, he wasn’t at the Burrow - Ron had been in Defense class the entire time?! He wasn’t a weak barely-no-longer-a-first-year. Third year. Professor Lupin was no longer in the room - why? Harry’s green eyes stared at Ron, into Ron’s soul, Harry had been there that summer and Ron can’t breathe breathe leave-

Ron fled from the classroom. 


	2. least loved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron thought, if someone Legilimized his parents searching for which of their children was least loved, he would be the only name that flit through their heads.
> 
> He would believe that he was right, but he was not, truly, the least loved of the Weasley family. That honor belonged to the one whose name wouldn't even flit through their heads, so a part of the unit he was born to. Fred-and-George Weasley were the twins, the pranksters, the troublemakers. Of course, Fred took the spotlight, was the mastermind behind the pranks, had the creative streak a mile long. George? George was one of the twins - not someone in his own right. Not his own person, never his own personality - George was the least loved of the Weasley's.

Ron thought, if someone Legilimized his parents searching for which of their children was least loved, he would be the only name that flit through their heads.

He would believe that he was right, but he was not, truly, the least loved of the Weasley family. That honor belonged to the one whose name wouldn't even flit through their heads, so a part of the unit he was born to. Fred-and-George Weasley were the twins, the pranksters, the troublemakers. Of course, Fred took the spotlight, was the mastermind behind the pranks, had the creative streak a mile long. George? George was one of the twins - not someone in his own right. Not his own person, never his own personality - George was the least loved of the Weasley's.

(Of course, some day George would become his own person, but only at the expense of his other half - a tragedy he would forever be bitter over, resenting his former self for having ever wanted. He would become the sole owner of Weasley's Wheezes, would be sued for selling love potions without a license, reconnect with Angelina Johnson in Azkaban of all places - but that was all half a decade in the future, hundreds of pages ahead of the chapter of George's life being recounted here.)

George never realized it - never really felt the sting of resentment towards his twin and then the spasm of guilt that immediately followed - until the summer after second year. The year lil Ronniekins began Hogwarts, somehow losing more points than George and Fred ever had before gaining them back through _rule-breaking -_ through chess, really, but when George had entered the corridor just to feed that poor puppy he had been chastised and received detention from Filch, so he had some right to be grumbling about his younger brother being rewarded for something _nobody else ever had any opportunity to do!_ George's second year of Hogwarts, where he was forcibly "taught" Legilimency from Quirrell (who apparently was Voldemort?! Who that Potter kid apparently murdered _accidentally?!)_ and only escaped relatively sane because he filched a Slytherin tie in order to trick Madam Prince into believing Snape signed a note enabling him to check out an instruction manual on Occlumency from the Restricted Section, where his only recourse of revenge was bewitching snowballs to hit Quirrell's turban. George was filled with anxiety about choosing third year electives when he and Fred exited the express, and he was ready for one of his mum's patented Weasley Hugs. And his mum forgot about him! She had been fussing nonstop over Ron at the train station, but when they were home, she made sure to hug Percy, and Fred too, before rushing off to feed the chickens.

George didn't say anything, but he did think about it. About how unfair the end of the year feast had been, about how big headed (he thought) Ron had been getting after having befriended the Boy Who Lived, about how really, being knocked unconscious for a few days was not that bad. Ron needed to be taught a lesson. He needed to relearn his place as the younger brother, the less important one. George had come up with the idea that a "friendly" sibling wrestling match was long overdue. Fred, who was increasingly fed up with Ron's nonstop blabbering about Harry and how he wasn't responding, agreed.

Fred held Ron's arms behind his back, but it was George that cut off the air supply to his windpipe, George who dislocated Ron's already-fractured shoulder, George who broke two ribs. The fight felt good, to finally leak out all the pressure about his abysmal exam results (according to Molly, mum-of-the-year, anyway), the attention Ron received by being besties with The Harry Potter, the only-good-for-a-laugh self-doubt that plagued him and Fred both. The fight felt righteous, at first, and they didn't even get caught. Ron told Dad that a group of Slytherins from school caught him unawares in a Muggle park.

But Ron was small, and the fight replayed in George's head before falling asleep. His brother's blue eyes filled with tears he tried desperately to blink out of existence, the glimpses of bruising still under his robes, the shuddering breathes he took whenever they were in close proximity.

George was the one who talked Fred into kidnapping Harry Potter. This could be a kind of repayment.

But an apology can't undo trauma, and their Defense class had taught them both Obliviate. Fred made Obliviating Ron one of the conditions before they would take the car, and George thought the guilt that was suffocating him would die with Ron's memory of the event.

It did, and Harry's fading bruises were more concerning than Ron's by far. Harry was being starved.

What's one less hug compared to that? George genuinely pushed the incident out of his mind, focusing on pranks to play on Lockhart and how to make Peeves into an ally.


	3. Hiding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> when Harry was a child, he was never given any opportunities to play the hero.

Harry Potter stopped caring about Boggarts the moment he stared into Ron’s wide, terrified eyes. He didn’t want to know what his worst fear was, didn’t want to know anything other than what he could do to help his best mate. When Ron fled the classroom, Harry was two seconds behind him. Harry didn’t see the Boggart briefly become dark and hooded, he didn’t even notice as he ran that he almost knocked over Professor Lupin, back from the restroom. 

See, when Harry was a child, he was never given any opportunities to play the hero. Pretty hard to be a hero when you have no friends, and Harry was usually the dude in distress, being beaten up by Dudley’s goons or whacked by an angry aunt. In the wizarding world, Harry was a hero, sort of. Public opinion depended on whether he had lost fifty points in one night or revealed that he could speak with snakes, after all. The only person who saw Harry as a hero regardless of what he screwed up at was Ron Weasley. And Ron had rescued Harry from what easily might’ve been a slow death by starvation the summer after first year.

Harry didn’t know how to be a friend, how to make the fact that his best mate’s worst fear were also the two most violent players on the Gryffindor Quidditch team better, but he’d rather face dementors every day for the rest of his life than let Ron down in what was likely the most humiliating experience of Ron’s life (possibly excluding the slug thing).

Harry had a good suspicion about where Ron was hiding out, and so Harry stopped in Gryffindor Tower to grab the Invisibility Cloak before going there. The Boy Who Lived, after all, couldn’t be caught in the girls’ restroom, even if it was the one that Myrtle haunted.

Cloak covering him, Harry silently entered the room. Filch had clearly cleaned it up over the summer. As Harry suspected, the stall that Hermione had brewed Polyjuice Potion in was occupied by a sniffling redhead. “Ron?” Harry asked, unsure what he’d do next.

Ron didn’t get to answer him, because Myrtle exited her stall. “Another boy in the girls’ bathroom? I may not see you, but I heard you! Reveal yourself, infiltrator!” 

Sheepishly, Harry took the cloak off, prompting Myrtle to change her tune. “Oh, good, it’s you. Ron came in here crying and I didn’t know how to help him. I’m no good with _boys_ ,” she emphasized, curling her lip.

”Ron?” Harry asked again, knocking on the door of his stall. What would he do? Distract him? Ron didn’t usually talk about feelings, but if he wanted to, Harry would listen.

”No, George, please-“ Ron sobbed, clearly in some kind of flashback.

”No, no it’s not George. I’m Harry-“

”H-Harry?”

”Yeah, I’m here, and I’ve got the cloak so no one will see us exiting if you wanna leave.”

”Don’t- safe here. I-“ Ron sniffled, wiping his nose on his robe sleeve, grateful Harry couldn’t see him through the still-locked stall door. “I really pantsed everything up. I thought it would be spiders, not- not-“

”The two most violent Gryffindor Quidditch players imaginable? They sometimes scare me, too, honestly.”

”Harry - I - I don’t want to talk about it. I just remembered what happened that scared me- summer after first year - I don’t- could we maybe...”

”What?”

”Nevermind, it’s a bloody stupid idea.”

”No, no, I wanna help. No stupid ideas here as long as no one ends up puking slugs.” Ron released a snort as Harry reminded him of that disaster.

”Could we maybe - I need something to remind myself that it’s not- I’m not a first year anymore. We’re here anyways, could we...?

Harry finally got the implication. “You want to back into the Chamber of Secrets.” A blotchy, tear stained and tense Ron unlocked the door so Harry could see him and nodded. “Yeah, okay, why not? Just a fifty foot long snake down there.”

”A dead snake,” Ron reminded Harry. “I bet we could harvest Basilisk hide for a fortune!” 

Not the distraction Harry thought he could supply, but he had no qualms about it. Ron looked happier already! Harry’s glasses blurred his vision enough that the facet already looked like a snake, so Harry simply hissed the password, and the two boys slid down under the school for the second time.


	4. Chamber Harvest

The stone hall towards the Chamber was narrower than Ron remembered, or maybe he had grown? Harry’s footsteps echoed beside him - the two boys were holding hands, neither wanting to feel as alone as they had been the last time.   
Then they reached the area where Ron had been crushed under rocks - _hurt it hurts his leg was crushed bone broken but at least this memory of pain had a discernible cause, unlike the Boggart he had faced -_ and Harry led Ron into the Chamber proper. The Chamber his sister almost died in, there was still a faded bloodstain/ink stain where Harry had stabbed the cursed diary. The stench of rotten meat filled the Chamber, half a year not being nearly enough time for a Basilisk to decompose. Ron stood still by the doorway, but Harry walked in, breathing through his mouth, and began tearing pieces of the dead skin off the reptile. He stuffed the remains in his robe pockets, seemingly unaffected by the smell entirely, and then conjured a small bottle and began pooling the liquid blood that still remained into it.

”Alright, Harry, can we leave?”

”Sure. By the way, these are going to be yours.”

”what do you expect me to do with dead basilisk blood? I mean the skin I could use to bribe Snape into giving me O’s until at least fourth year, but blood?”

”Ron, mate, think about it. Basilisks are extraordinarily rare creatures that are thought to be extinct and would kill anyone who tried to raise them for ingredients. You can sell this stuff to an apothecary anywhere on Earth for a million Galleons!”

”I-I could. I could! Move over Malfoy, I’m gonna restore the Weasley fortune! Thank you, Harry.”

”No problem. Now I need a shower.”

”Alright.”


	5. Regain

Ron was grateful he had a pet project to work on in trying to figure out what apothecaries would be sketchy enough to not notice the person selling them Basilisk blood was a thirteen year old. He was also grateful that he and Hermione were too busy arguing for Hermione to ask any questions about the Boggart to Ron's face.

(Hermione asked Harry what the Boggart was about, but Harry genuinely didn't know. She wanted to ask Ron, to see if she could maybe help, but whenever she did she was tailed by her irritable orange cat that hated being alone. Ron got angrier and angrier the more Hermione brought Crookshanks with her, but Hermione didn't want to leave Crookshanks when she was already abandoning the cat for hours at a time when she attended class after class with the Time-Turner.)

Ron taught himself the _Statis_ charm with his new wand to keep the Basilisk parts from decaying any further. He loved having a working wand again, and would practice the movements for _Ridikulous_ while watching his brothers across the common room.

But the wandwork of third-years is shoddy and the _Obliviate_ began falling apart at random moments. He'd be taking notes in Transfiguration and suddenly feel like he can't breathe, or be walking to the Great Hall with Harry and suddenly remember how Fred had stepped on his spine, or be in Divination with Harry, laughing at Trelawney's predictions of Harry's death until -

"it’s not like he’ll be missed if we accidentally kill him anyway -"

"He'll be more fun without all these robes in the way-"

"Guys what are you-?"

"Poor wee little Ronniekins, crying for mommy!”

And pain, pain everywhere, pain in places nobody else had ever even touched him before, pain and hurts hurts hurts why-

"Ron? Ron, what happened, mate? Ron?!"

"I think he's in some kinda' trance or something!"

"Professor Trelawney, something's wrong with Weasley! Can someone take him to the Hospital Wing?"

"No, no,Mr. Potter, sit down - how about... Ms. Granger, since you certainly have not been using your Inner Eye, please escort Mr. Weasley to the Hospital Wing."

And suddenly Ron is standing, his body is walking, Hermione is ahead of him, shooting him concerned glances but he can't register them, can't speak and explain that he's fine, no really, he doesn't need-

He's holding a glass of potion, he doesn't know what because he's pants at potions, always has been, but he drinks it and feels- not better, but more like he's in reality again.

"Mr. Weasley, I believe you have been the recipient of a Memory Charm that is breaking. Have you been engaging in any form of Mind Arts?"

Hermione gasps until Ron shakes his head. "Dunno what that is. Been feeling weird since the Boggart petrified and choked me."

"A Boggart?! You- how long ago was this?"

"I dunno,"

"Boggarts are incapable of casting intent-based spells like Memory Charms, but they can cause the victim of one, if the charm hid a fearful memory, to regain memories."

 


	6. Rumor

Rumors spread quickly in the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, through whispers and enchanted paper airplanes and letters sent from members of one House to another. Rumors about Defense class were especially prevalent, given the ever-changing professors and dangerous nature of the subject.

Certainly all the Gryffindors by now have heard about Neville Longbottom’s Boggart turning into Professor Snape, and rumors also spread about why the Defense Professor recommended Longbottom imagine Snape in his grandmother’s clothes - Did Professor Lupin know Neville’s grandmother? Did he have a grudge against Snape? The two appear similar in age - did Snape once have a thing for female clothes that Lupin knew about?   
The third year Boggart class had certainly lit a flame in the oven of the Hogwarts rumor-mill. There had been other rumors too, ones that had certain students whispering when they passed any of the Weasley’s in the hallway, but none of the older Weasley’s bothered following any of the rumors about younger students. They had other preoccupations.

That is, until Harry Potter burst into the Common Room, frantically looking for Percy. Luckily Percy was in the room.

”Percy, Ron,” Harry panted - he had ran all the way down the stairs from Divination. “He- Ron’s in the hospital wing, Trelawney wouldn’t let me check up on him, but you’re family and I thought you would want to know. He was having trouble breathing, I don’t know what’s wrong with him but Hermione said he probably wouldn’t be let out until after dinner.”

”Oh no! Thank you for telling me, I’ll owl Mum and then go see if Madam Pomfrey can let me know how he’s doing. You should go to dinner though, Oliver’s going to have a 5am Quidditch practice tomorrow, I heard him planning it in our dorm.”

”Damnit Wood,” Harry shook his head and began walking to put his stuff in his room before he was going to start on his Transfiguration essay. Maybe he would practice a bit that afternoon, also.

Percy ran into the twins on his way to the Owlery, and when he told them what Harry reported, they both began rethinking the rumors.

Could they really be Ron’s Boggart? When had everything gone so wrong?


End file.
